


I Saw The Scythe

by GretchenSinister



Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Blacksand - Freeform, Golden Age, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: …and it opened up my eyes/I saw the scytheNow you have Ace of Base stuck in your head. Sorry, I couldn’t think of a good title.Some of the events that led to my ficlet "War-Scythe."
Relationships: Kozmotis Pitchiner/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Kudos: 7
Collections: The Kozmotis Collection





	I Saw The Scythe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 11/11/2013.

Sandy forced himself to breathe calmly as he made his way down the corridor of the officers’ deck on the _Brightshiner_. Just because he had gotten a personal summons from General Pitchiner to meet him in his office didn’t necessarily mean he was in trouble. What could he have done, anyway? True, in the ‘ _shiner_ ’s last skirmish with the Fearlings, maybe he had gotten a little fancy while piloting his star, but, still, no one on their side had been lost and none of the Fearlings had escaped.

And if he was in trouble, surely the general would have told him what the problem was in the summons. While they weren’t friends, of course—a general having far more important people to spend time with than a starman who wasn’t even the same species as him—somehow Sandy had gotten the impression that they were on good terms. When reviewing the troops before and after battle, Sandy thought he could see the general’s expression of stern determination soften into the smallest of smiles when he got to him. And once, after a fight that had taken all day, General Pitchiner had publicly commended Sandy. (Which had made him very nervous indeed. The general’s handsomeness was often used in port as the cherry on top of the ridiculous points of pride claimed in the playful braggadocio engaged in between ships’ troops, but Sandy, if pressed, would be forced to admit that he really found the general stunning. If further pressed, he would have to admit that he had a massive crush on the general. He made sure that no one had reason to press him on these subjects.)

Sandy arrived outside the general’s office door with two minutes to spare before the time appointed by the summons. He unsuccessfully tried to smooth down his hair, straightened his uniform, rocked back and forth on his feet until his uniform needed to be straightened again, straightened it, and stared at his watch, wondering if it was traveling at near-light-speed while he was not. Finally, the numbers changed.

He knocked at the door, which slid open at once. General Pitchiner sat behind a large desk, his long-fingered hands lightly playing over the embedded computer. “Starman Mansnoozie. Come in.” He smiled at Sandy then, and Sandy felt both safer and closer to death than ever.

The general gestured for him to take the seat in front of the desk. Sandy hoped he managed to do so with some grace, but the fact remained that his feet didn’t touch the floor when he was settled.

“Do give me one moment.” The general turned his face to the computer again, closing tactical programs. Sandy wasn’t sure what he was allowed to see, so he let his gaze flicker around the room. Photographs of landscapes, not all from the same world, lined the walls. A weapons case, fairly standard, save for the general’s insignia, stood along one wall. Along the opposite wall rested a larger cabinet with no clear purpose. He didn’t spare much thought for the furniture, though, for propped in a back corner of the room rested the general’s war-scythe, beautiful and deadly. It just barely fit between floor and ceiling, and as a weapon, Sandy couldn’t imagine one more suited to the general—

“Do you like it?” Hearing the general’s voice, and realizing that he had seen Sandy staring at the scythe, brought a faint blush to Sandy’s cheeks, though he refused to analyze why—he only knew it would make him blush harder. “It was a gift,” the general continued. “One I’ve struggled to reciprocate.” A small smile appeared on his face, as if he was remembering some private joke.

“It’s beautiful, sir,” Sandy said softly.

“I’m glad you think so. Much like your voice, I should say. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak before now. This meeting will be worthwhile if only for that. Now, you’re probably wondering why I called you here tonight.”

The general’s comments had left him wondering a great deal more than that, but as he felt he could not express these thoughts coherently, he merely said, “Yes, sir.”

“To be perfectly frank, I wanted to get to know you a bit better, starman. You’re one of our most dazzling pilots, you know. You should be up for promotion well ahead of schedule. In the recordings, your flight is fluid as thought. You’ve a particular skill for saving your fellows, as well. You seem like someone worth knowing, Mansnoozie.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sandy said with as much voice as he could muster.

The general raised one eyebrow. “Come now, this is no way to have a conversation. We must be comfortable with each other. Now, I know you’re missing mess, but I thought we might share a few things I have here.”

Sandy grew more and more concerned that the situation had quite escaped him as General Pitchiner withdrew a few containers from one of the drawers of his desk and began to arrange a cold, but still clearly better than what was served in mess hall, meal for two. When he brought out wine glasses and the wine to fill them, Sandy’s eyes widened. The general moved one of his hands in a soothing gesture. “Please, Mansnoozie, don’t worry. Neither of us is on duty now, and besides—am I not allowed to toast you privately as well as publicly?”

Something about his tone of voice made heat return to Sandy’s face, but he could not think of any answer other than, “Yes, sir.”

After a glass or two, Sandy realized that he was indeed feeling more comfortable with the general. Perhaps too comfortable? He had asked the general to call him Sandy, and he had agreed. They talked of everything and nothing, and aside from the worrying feeling Sandy had that he was falling even more in love with the general now, the meeting seemed to be going well, if pointlessly. The general was smiling a great deal now.

Sandy was entirely unprepared for the question that followed a brief lull in their conversation.

“Sandy, how would you go about seducing your commanding officer?”

“W-what? Sir—I—but that would—impossible—”

“I assure you, it is anything but impossible.” The general’s smile was soft and easy now, and Sandy felt blood pounding in his ears.

Sandy laughed nervously. “All right, really, is this some sort of joke? We can’t talk about these things, I mean, is it really you over there? no holographic spoofing of some lookalike…”

“If I wasn’t myself, who would I be? I’m fairly sure a lookalike wouldn’t fool you, and why would my question make you think of that?”

Sandy was sure if he blushed any more, he’d start glowing. “Sir—I—I wasn’t looking for it—everyone in the fleet knows you’re very handsome and since you’re also famous and a hero—um—when I joined the _Brightshiner_ my new team gave me the wrong settings for my data connection—I was legitimately looking for you, the real you, for a real reason, I swear. But…” he felt faint. Surely this was when the floor would swallow him up. “Being your lookalike is lucrative, apparently? In certain professions and—oh stars—you’requestionremindedmeofthat.” What was he thinking? He wished he hadn’t had his last glass of wine. What if the general had meant his question rhetorically?

“Sandy,” the authentic General Pitchiner said, “it takes more than accidental access to get to those parts.”

Sandy buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Starman,” the general said quietly, reaching out a long arm to gently pull down Sandy’s arms. “It’s not the interest that I mind. But every single one of those scenarios is inaccurate if it doesn’t involve a particular individual of the Sand People.”

Sandy looked anywhere but at the general, wishing he could hide his face again and still feeling the warmth of his hands on his arms. “Sir, everything about this situation seems really implausible right now. I think I’ve had too much wine. Permission to leave?”

“After I tell you one last thing.”

In the pause, Sandy finds his gaze returning to the general, who, to his astonishment, is showing a bit of color in his cheeks now.

“I do very much want to know your answer to my question,” the general said. “How would you go about seducing your commanding officer? I can guess you’d be charming, and humble, and honest, and talented…and if you find yourself wondering how to proceed from there, when I reviewed your file, I confess I was highly interested to learn that your chosen weapons for hand-to-hand combat qualifications were whips.

“If this, or any other information, proves useful in formulating your answer—well. Let me know. Now, if you wish it, you have my permission to leave.”

* * *

A week later, Sandy was well aware that he was doing quite a few things he could get court-martialed for when he broke from his squadron after training, some of the equipment from the gym stashed in his bag.

At this time of day, the general could be found on the bridge. Spotting him from the doorway, Sandy realized he hadn’t thought this part through. How was he going to get the general away from everybody else? When he caught his eye, Sandy did the first thing he could think of, beckoning the general over with a gesture. He winced when the general glanced away. This was definitely going to end with Sandy being reprimanded. But now—oh stars. The general had been telling the others he was leaving. And now General Pitchiner was walking toward _him_.

He followed Sandy around a bend in the hallway, and before he could say anything, and before Sandy could second-guess himself, he reached up to grab double handfuls of the general’s gold-spangled uniform, pulling his mouth down to meet Sandy’s own in a sloppy kiss that quickly grew much more organized and ever more heated.

“I see you favor the direct approach,” General Pitchiner said when Sandy broke the kiss. “Allow me to be yet more direct.” Yet as he bent down, Sandy stopped him with a hand pressed lightly to his mouth.

“This is too public, sir. And you’re too tall, standing.”

“I see,” the general said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I think you should now learn what an officer’s quarters look like. And please—call me Koz. Not sir. I wouldn’t want things to get confused later on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: that was awesome. Yay for Sandy!
> 
> whentheoceanmetsky said: A+ for Sandy reacting how anyone would in the presence of all that man. A++++++ for him getting ready to dom the FUCK out all that man nghhhhh.
> 
> marypsue reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Oh. Oh, stars. Excuse me, I think I need to go stand in the snow for a bit.#HOW IS EVERYTHING YOU WRITE SO HOT


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